Nothing More Than A Hunting Dog
by TheMagicPanda12
Summary: Everything changed for Claire Samson, for better or worse she can't tell, When the best on field officer in America meets the best mind in London they both struggle to land on top at out smarting the other, a rivalry of some sort but for Sherlock and Claire they have no time for childish feuds, not when there is a killer lose in London. {Realistic fic}
1. Prologue

Claire huffed and puffed as she dragged her oversized, over packed and defiantly overweight suitcase up what seemed to be never ending stairs to her new apartment in the heart of London. Being in the SSPD herself, she would never have thought about being transferred to London by her boss, _never, _maybe New York or San Diego but never outside of the US_._

It happened so quickly for Claire, she didn't even have time to say goodbye properly, she was told to get there ASAP due to a case they needed her help to solve, she was completely dumbfounded when she was told that, why her of all people? Sure, she had a good reputation and was known as 'the hunting dog' due to her speciality at park core which had helped her chase down murders and criminals in the field but actually _solving_ the case was new to her.

"Why do I even have to be here? This isn't even my department, I chase killers, not solve petty puzzles." Her voice strained the last few words as she finally got to 223a Bakers streets door, her boss, Liam got her the flat and said to go and check out her neighbours sometime, she had no idea what he was talking about but it couldn't hurt, _right?_

* * *

**{Meanwhile at 221b}**

Sherlock sat in his chair with his hands under his chin; something had been bothering him recently, a case, a case where no evidence was found but only a cent, not a footprint, not a fingerprint, nothing but change. One other thing linked all the murders; they were all Americans, it wasn't that Sherlock couldn't solve the case but merely the fact the killer's method.

"Why….why come here?" The man muttered to himself, he knew who this murderer was, they were known as 'the penny ghost', due to not leaving a single trace after a killing but a piece of American currency.

Sherlock had also found out this case (after some hacking) was originally under the SSPD's crime investigation team, apparently the greatest on field officers in the world, only to take up the case and loose two of their own and come up fruitless in inquiries, to Sherlock's knowledge the case was dropped a good two or three years ago, since then no more murders had been committed. But for the past month or so the same strange murders had started happening again, in London.

"Sherlock, are you ok?" The consulting detective jerked out of his thoughts and was greeted by his closest – if not only – friend, John Watson sitting on the sofa at the far end of the room with his laptop.

"Thinking." Sherlock replied as he stood up and went over the kitchen to check on his latest experiment, he frowned finding the human hand not yet decomposing in the kitchen sink in a bag of its own blood.

"You know, I think there's someone new moving in next door, there was a sold sign outside last week." Sherlock heard John say as a failed attempt at starting a vaguely interesting convocation.

Sherlock hummed and sat at a stool, grabbing his phone and opening a hacked file on the so called 'greatest on field officers in the world'. John knew this case had his friend worked up; he too was puzzled by the method of the killings but he knew they'd get to the end of it somehow, they always did.

"Samuel Rhodes, Chrissa Evens, Lucas Miles, Matthew Grendale and….." Sherlock looked at the last name and raised an eyebrow.

"Claire 'Hunting dog' Samson?" He asked more than said.


	2. Taxi Thief

Claire couldn't do this anymore, after the umpteenth box of books as collapsed, five hours she'd been unpacking, and she was far from done, sighing in annoyance she grabbed a cushion and fell ungracefully onto her new sofa in the middle of the room.

Claire's eyelids felt heavy, she wasn't surprised, a ten hour flight without sleep because of some kid kicking the back of her seat ought to do something to your system, and of course there's always jet lag. Sighing once more she laid her head down on the armrest and she fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

**{221b}**

Sherlock was on his –John's- laptop when his phone beeped, notifying him of a new text message, John walked in with some coffee and he sat down on his chair with the British flag pillow he liked so much and ignored the fact his roommate had hacked his laptop again. Sherlock's phone beeped again, silence, another beep, silence, another beep.

"Are you going to check those?" John asked as Sherlock shut the laptop and picked up his phone, the texts were from Lestrade.

**_Contact: Graham Lestrade_**

_8:03 am ~ 'Need you over at SY, have a newbie that might help lead this case we're on.'_

_8:03 am ~ 'Don't ignore me.'_

_8:04 am ~ 'Come ASAP, I'm telling you . .'_

Sherlock put his phone back and stood up from his chair, John sighed and quickly grabbed his computer and placed it into one of the desk draws before following Sherlock out of there flat.

"Is it important?" John asked as he struggled to keep up with the consulting detective, Sherlock nodded as they walked out into the street.

"Very, now would you mind apologizing to that young woman over there?" Sherlock pointed towards a woman in what looked like a suit with short wavy brown hair, John raised an eyebrow.

"Why?" Sherlock began to walk faster.

"I'm about to take her taxi."

* * *

**{223a – a little earlier}**

Claire's alarm blared loudly in her ears, jerking up with a start from the sofa her eyes darted around the dark room of her flat which was full to the brim with moving boxes, she glanced at her watch.

" 7:40….I must have fallen asleep while unpacking." She yawned as she moved to turn back over and draped a blanket around her shoulders, she was about to fall asleep when she had a nagging feeling she had forgotten something, something important, not even three minutes later Claire let out a scream and leapt off the leather sofa and fell to the floor with a loud 'thump'.

"Work! Work starts in…" Picking herself up, she dashed into her bedroom and she looked at her watch again.

"21 minutes!" She threw open her wardrobe and got out a pair of smart black trousers, a light blue blouse and a matching black blazer to go with the trousers, she didn't have time for a bath so she just washed her face in some soapy water, applied a little bit of makeup, ran around looking for her phone which had fallen under the sofa and grabbed some shoes and her bag.

She made it out of her house with only 10 minutes spare as she hailed a taxi for the first time in her life, everything was going fine as it rolled to a stop in front of her, as she was opening the door she heard yelling behind her.

"Sherlock! You can't take her taxi!" Claire turned slowly to see a tall raven haired man striding towards her, without even a word he pushed her aside and got into the vehicle.

"Sorry, important, must dash, come on John, I'm sure she forgives us." A shorter, blonde-ish man walked up with a frown on his face.

"Us?! You can't just take so-…" The taller man glared at the other.

"I doubt she'll be late for anything, she does park core, she can just jump the buildings to where she needs to go." There was a short sigh from the blonde as he turned towards Claire.

"Sorry." He muttered as he got into the car and it sped off.

"B-but…..but….." Claire was completely and utterly confused, she balled her fists and she glared at the cab rolling off down the road with the 'taxi thieves' inside.

"YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!" She screamed at the top of her lungs, not caring about the looks she was getting from passers-by.

* * *

**{Sherlock + John}**

_"YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!" _John flinched as he heard the woman scream after the taxi, Sherlock didn't make any sort of movement however, he just sat there in his thinking position, John sighed as he silently apologized to the woman again when something occurred to him.

"You said something about park core." John said as Sherlock looked at him as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Of course she did, the dirt under her nails, some kind of brick or stone I assume, plasters visible on her elbows and knees meaning she has to use upper body strength or climb things and her shoes, she wasn't wearing heels, she was wearing flats, something she can run in and jump, simple." John rolled his eyes and went the rest of the journey in silence.

* * *

Claire thought she was going to cry, she had less than 5 minutes to get to work, no cabs were available and she didn't know her way around properly, thought what the man said about park core might help, how he knew about that didn't even cross her mind, ginning slightly she pulled out her GPS on her iPhone and started running.

**{Some time later}**

Scotland Yard was in sight but Claire was already ten minutes late, in a mad dash she ran through two bushes, jumped across a balcony and pelted full speed down a main road, let just say passers-by were less than please by her actions.

"Excuse me! Sorry. In a rush!" She yelled as she made it into the massive building and pushed her way through the busy halls. As she made her way to her section she stopped briefly to try and clean herself up and get leaves out of her hair before striding towards her new bosses door. Knocking on it twice she got a 'come in' as a reply.

"Sorry I'm late sir. Some tall ass moron stole my ta-!" Claire stopped mid-sentence as she locked eyes with a certain consulting detective and her jaw dropped.

_"It's you."_  
_"Taxi Thief!"_

They both said at the same time.


End file.
